Ray of Hope
by JourneyJohnny
Summary: Edward has given up on people - he chose loneliness, not wanting to risk to be hurt again. Bella is hunted by the ghosts of a less than perfect childhood. Can two lost souls heal each other?
1. Memories

**Disclaimer: The characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I´m just fooling around with them…**

This is my first attempt at fanfiction, and I sincerly hope some of you like it. Reviews are most welcome, and you`re welcome to criticize me, too. I know my English is not perfect, so feel free to point out my mistakes ; )

**Warning: This story is rated M for a reason! If you are sensitive to child abuse or violence in generall, please don`t read!**

**1. Memories**

**Edward**

With a soft sigh I buried my head in my hands and scowled at the faded plastic of the table in front of me without seeing it. There they were again. The pictures I couldn`t get rid of, the pictures that haunted me when I expected them the least.

Was it not enough that they appeared in my dreams, in the nightmares that left me screeming and gasping for breath every fucking night? Did they have to torment me at daytime, too? How I wished I could forget for just one moment. Forget who I was. Forget what I saw.

I knew that many other students envied me. Most of them only saw the silver, shiny new car, the expensive clothes, the perfect family we appeared to be. Nobody could understand why I spent every lunch break alone at this table, gazing into the void. Why I didn`t speak to anybody.

At the beginning, many had tried to befriend me. They had been blinded by appearances. Nobody saw me how I really was, nobody was truly interested.

I had rejected each and every attempt at conversation, first polite, then increasingly determined and finally abrasive and cold until everybody got the picture. Edward Cullen – caution, danger. Keep your distance.

It was easier that way. And when I caught their envious gazes directed at my car every now and then, I often had to surpress a bitter grin. They had now idea…

„Mr Cullen!" The nasal voice of our English teacher ripped me out of my dark thoughts. With a soft sigh I looked at the board in the front of the classroom where Mr Comb was busy pointing out the different relationships between the characters in Shakespeares most famous play.Dear God, how I hated that topic! I mean, Romeo and Juliet, really? As if any sane person on this godforsaken planet still believes in something as unrealistic as true love! Did not two out of three marriages end in divorce? And even those that didn`t end in divorce weren`t always a fairy tale. That I had learned out of experience.

As soon as you allow another person a glimpse into your soul, as soon as you open up to anyone, as soon as you bind yourself to another person, you become vulnerable. Loving someone makes you weak. Love is surrender, and the one you once believed to love will utilize you, betray you and destroy you in the end. Loving someone makes you weak, and the world is ruled by the strong.

I had made my choice. I had chosen loneliness. But sometimes, only sometimes, I wondered if it had been the wiser choice. Sometimes I wondered if this was what the rest of my life would be like: being awake half of the night, spending my days in a cloudy haze of drowsiness, never once feeling truly alife. Sometimes I wondered if this…existing…wasn`t more like death than like life. Perhaps I had died with her, on that day ten years ago. Perhaps I still lived, but a part of me had died with her, of that I was sure. The better part.

And there they were again, the memories. Their icy claws teared me in half and took me prisoner, never letting me go. The almost clinical, white classroom disappeared, faded like a illusion, an apparition...

_...and I was seven years old again and played a memory card game with my mother. It was the game with the fruit and flowers, and I still could see the unreal, flashing shiny colours in front of me. _

_It was so rare for us to have carefree moments like this one, and I relished them. I knew I was a bit old for a game like this, but it was the only birthday present I ever got, and that was why I loved it so much._

_Suddenly, there was the familiar sound of a key turning in the front door, and the well-known fear gripped my heart. Hastily I reached for the shiny cards, but my hands were shaking so badly that I wasn`t fast enough to gather them all in time. He was back earlier than we had thought, and now it was too late for us to clear the table of all evidence, and for me to disappear._

_In slow motion I saw the front door opening, dark walnut wood, the texture like fragile spider webs, something I never forgot. My father`s face was distorted by rage, and he reeked of stale beer and cigarettes, a stench that still churns my stomach when I think of it. It was always a bad sign when he drank._

_My mother winced. Our eyes met. Her gaze was grave, insistend, and there was a determination within the green depths that left me shuddering. It was as if she knew what would happen now, but there was no fear in her. Only something like...acceptance? _

„_Edward, go to your room! Go, now!", she said quietly. Quietly, but with a voice that allowed no contradiction._

_Concerned, I looked at my father, who came nearer and nearer. He stumbled a bit, but caught himself a moment later, having to support his weight by grasping for the wall. Perhaps he would collapse before he reached us. Then we would be safe – for a little while. _

_But he found his balance yet again, and he came nearer still, slowly and deliberately, with the grace of a bull stalking a red cloth. In his right hand he held the baseball bat I feared like nothing else. The baseball bat that normally stood next to the front door. The baseball bat I was very familiar with. _

_I was always bruised badly after he used him on my back. One time one of my teachers had noticed, and I had lied and told him that I fell down the stairs – I had to promise mommy to never tell a soul about how my father really was. Otherwise they would take me away from her, and she would be all alone with him. I could not let that happen._

"_Do you want that, sweety? That they come and take you away?", she had asked me then, begging me to understand the importance of secrecy. _

„_No", I had wispered. __The thought alone had made me feel violently sick. I wanted to stay with mommy. And when I wanted to stay with her, I had to live with the beatings. He told me every time that I deserved it, that I was a bad boy. But the tears in mommy`s eyes always told me a different story._

„_No, mommy, I won`t leave you with him!", I cried now, desperatly searching for a way out I wouldn`t find. There would be no escape. There never was. Our flat was small, the only door outside the front door was the one leading into the bedroom, and to this door my father had the only key. We were imprisoned in the corner between the kitchen counter and the living room. There was no escaping him, and we all knew it. _

_There was no time left, it was slipping through my fingers like sand. I could only hope that he would deal with me first, then perhaps mommy would have enough time to hide from him. _

_Determined, I placed myself in front of her._

"_Leave her alone!", I managed to squeeze out, my voice shaking and betraying my fear._

_For a tiny moment, my father examined my small form thoughtfully, even a bit surprised. _

„_You`ve got balls, little one", he slurred, grinning. "Perhaps you`re my son after all. __Never mind. Won`t save you. __Let me pass, I`ll take care of you when I`m finished with your mother."_

_Though I felt as if my knees were to give out on me any moment and I was shaking with fear, I stood my ground. Too often had I heard what he did to her in their bedroom, and her silent crying when he was "finished with her". It always ripped my heart in two. And it was my fault that he was angry now, it had been my idea to play a game instead of preparing dinner for him. He had said he would be late today, but we both knew one could never trust him. It was my fault we were in trouble, and I would take responsibility for it. I was old enough._

_I should have known it. I was no match for him. He simply shoved me aside, grabbed my mother`s hand and dragged her inside the Room of Fear. It was suspiciously silent for a long time, the only sound I could hear my rapidly beating heart. _

_Then there was a quiet commotion behind the closed door._

"_Please, Ed, leave him out of this, he`s only a child, for god`s sake, please, I beg you…", I heard my mother`s desperate voice, but there was no time for me to fear what was coming. The next thing I knew, my fathers strong hands enveloped my upper arms, the sharp bite of his leather belt binding my wrists. There was no escape._

"_Now that I think of it, you`re welcome to watch", he wispered darkly into my ear._

_I closed my eyes in a desperate attempt to block it all out. I wasn`t able to close my ears, though, to not hear what he did to her. And when she grew quieter, I just had to look. I had to make sure she was still alive. I would never forget what I saw this day. I will remember these pictures for the rest of my life with perfect, gut-wrenching clarity._

_She died soundlessly. And the peaceful, relieved expression in her eyes before they froze in death`s cold gaze would forever haunt me._


	2. Brown eyes

**Disclaimer: Edward isn`t mine…that`s why I have to write stories about him ;)**

**Warning: This story is rated M for a reason…**

**The follwing chapter contains no flashbacks. **

**As always, I would be very grateful if you left me a review…**

**2. Brown eyes**

**Edward**

It was a day like any other. I sat alone at my table and chewed on my turkey sandwich halfheartedly without really tasting it when it happend. Out of the corners of my eyes I saw something that froze my every movement.

At the other end of the lunch room a girl I was sure I never laid eyes on before stumbled over something and fell with a quiet, fearfull scream.

Normally, that wouldn`t have caught my interest – I never interfered, that was one of my rules. Once I interfered, once I took sides with someone, I would make myself vulnerable. I would risk to feel with someone, and to get hurt in the process yet again. Feeling with someone was too close to friendship for my taste, and I couldn`t risk friedship – I just couldn`t.

But strangely enough, this time I couldn`t avert my gaze. There she was, a small shaking figure hugging her knees, lying on the cold floor between the first row of cheep plastic chairs.

The crude neon light revealed dark, almost black hair flowing in smooth waves around her shoulders and concealing her face almost altogether, but I was too far away from her to see her face anyway.

Why didn`t anybody help her? Was it too much to ask to help a girl that stumbled in front of the whole school just moments ago? There were at least a dozen boys in the line, not more then five feet away from her. And yet noone seemed to dare to come near her. Something wasn`t right. A strange silence spread through the large room.

She was too motionless. She was lying on the floor, hugging herself, trying to appear as small as possible, as if she wished not to be seen. This posture spoke of fear, a fear I was too familiar with. And then I heard it. A quiet whimper that only reached my ears because of this strange silence. She _whimpered_!

It cut right through my heart, that sound, a heart I almost didn`t believe I still possessed. It was such a broken sound, so desperate, so helpless, and it reminded me of days spend in cold darkness, of quiet, lonely sobs nobody heard. Suddenly, I couldn`t bear it any more to witness her pain. I had to at least try to help her.

Just when I stood up to go to her I saw that one of the morons standing in line for the food finally remembered what a gentleman did in a situation such as this one. He went over to her to help her get up.

I knew it before he even touched her. I knew it, because he was too fast, too awkward, and because he surprised her. She didn`t see him coming, and the moment he reached for her arm, she let out a bloodcurdling, piercing shriek.

The moron, I think his name was Mike Newton, cringed and hurried a few steps back, and I shot him a very angry look.

But I couldn`t stare daggers at him long enough, because that was when the girl startet to gasp for breath, and I knew what would happen next. That was a full-grown panic attack, and soon she would start to hyperventilate and eventually lose conciousness. And it seemed as if I would have to be the one to help her, because the morons in the line still stared open-mouthed at the scene enfolding in front of their eyes, kind of frozen in place without showing any signs of thawing anytime soon.

I sighed loudly, accepted my fate, stood up and startet to cross the distance that still seperated me from the gasping girl. Suddenly, I was the center of attention, and I felt the eyes of the other students on me, boring like sharp arrows in the vulnerable flesh between my shoulder blades, an enormous weight threatening to suffocate me. They gazed at me, questioning, disbelieving, bewildered and appaled. Appaled, because everybody thought that I, Edward Cullen, antisocial asshole, would make it all worse. I had forged my mask carefully and for quite a long time now.

And yet nobody stopped me.

I knew this would be the topic of converstations for weeks to come now – especially considering what I was about to do. I would speak to her. I knew I had no other choice if I wanted to avoid to frighten her like this damn blonde idiot just had– Mike or whatever he was called.

In that moment I wished with all my heart I wouldn`t care about the girl`s suffering and my heart would be silent yet again. I hated the attention that weighted me down like a thick, heavy blanket and almost stole my breath away. For so long I had managed to fade into the background, to be left alone by each and everyone, so much so that sometimes I had wondered if there was anybody outside my family who actually knew I existed, who would take notice if I disappeared one day. Not that it would have mattered, anyway. Every day was just the repetition of the day before, or the day that would follow. Nothing new, nothing worth waiting for, nothing worth…living for. At least I lived in relative peace now, and there was nothing to fear anymore. I guess I was as happy as I was able to be.

But all that peaceful invisibility was destroyed within those few moments. I destroyed it myself. Just because my heart seemingly wasn`t as dead as I had always hoped.

She seemed to sense my approach, because her whole body suddenly stiffened. The soft gasps, muted by the thick veil of dark brown hair, became louder, snatchy and strained, as if she had a hard time forcing herself to breathe at all.

"It`s all right", I murmured softly, trying to sound reassuring. I had no idea if I managed it, it had been a long time since I heard my own voice, and it sounded strange in my ears, almost as if it were the voice of a stranger.

And yet I thought she had relaxed a bit…only a bit, but that was better than nothing.

„Shhh...it`s all right...nobody will hurt you...you`re safe now…", I wispered, tiptoeing nearer an nearer with every syllable, as slowly and carefully as if I were approaching a wounded, frightened animal.

Then there was only a foot left seperating my feet from her shaking form.

It was uncomfortable standing there hovering above her, and I was sure she would somehow feel my presence even if her eyes were closed, and perhaps feel threatened by it, given her defenseless position on the floor. I didn`t want to cause her any fear, and I for sure didn`t want her to let out another awful scream as she had earlier, when that moron…no, I didn`t want that to happen again. I just had to take away her pain.

Slowly, painfully slowly I got down on my knees, careful to not move too fast or too rash. She was still breathing in gasps, but not as hectic as before. Now it sounded only as if she had been running several miles, not as if she was in danger of suffocating.

I forced myself to breathe in deeply. I had to be calm in order to calm her.

„Shhh." My voice was not louder than a whisper, but the big, crowded room had fallen almost completely silent, as if time had stopped altogether. Or perhaps I was just oblivious to everything outside the small bubble of peace I had created surrounding the two of us. It didn`t matter.

"Shhh. Everything`s fine. Can you hear me breathing? Hold your own breath…hold it with me…that`s it…one…and two…and three…and four…and now breathe in…"

Tentatively, I moved closer to her, so that she could hear my breath and could match her own with it. First of all, nothing changed. She still gasped and fought desperately to fill her lungs with much needed air. Oh, I knew how that felt when it seemed simply impossible to get enough oxygen, when your lungs refused to work properly. That terrible feeling of your own life slipping through your fingers…that black void threatening to consume you…

Eventually I was directly in front of her, my face merely centimeters from her face, my cheek resting on the cold, tiled floor. Softly and slowly I counted her breaths for her. And gradually her breath evened out, became calmer and finally slowed down.

A strange, unknown feeling swelled inside my chest, I couldn`t name it, but it gave me an odd sense of peace.

I don`t know how long we stayed there, lying side by side on the icy floor, facing each other while she slowly calmed down. We were so close, but we didn`t touch, and her face was hidden by these long, dark tresses.

After a seemingly endless period of time my hand reached out almost on its own, and I stroked her hair back behind her shoulder, very gingerly and very gently.

I justified it, telling myself that it made breathing easier for her, but deep down I knew it to be just what it was: an excuse. I had wanted to touch her hair, this smooth mass as dark as a starless night, and it had been just as soft and velvety as I had imagined it to be, though it was a bit tousled. And I had wanted to see her face.

Nothing could have prepared me for the gaze I met now, that gaze out of deep, brown eyes that seemed to see through all the maskes and all the walls I had surrounded myself with.

"Thank you", she wispered softly. The corners of her delicate mouth shook, as if she tried to smile, but failed.

I could only nod. Her gaze captivated me, rendered me speechless. In that short moment, I recognized myself in her eyes. I saw the same loneliness, the same fear, the same sadness I knew to be written in my eyes as well. But that wasn`t all.

There was this odd feeling of…warmth…that spread through my chest as she looked into my eyes. It was as if she saw me. As if she was able to see behind all pretences, behind all my masks, and as if she would genuinely like what she saw. But that was just not possible.

The cold wave of reality flooded my bubble of calm and destroyed it. It wasn`t possible. It shouldn`t be possible.

This girl was dangerous, and I shouldn`t let happen what she had done to me with just one gaze. I was stronger than that. I had survived, after all, for such a long time.

I got up hastily, my knees weaker than I would admit even to myself, and sprinted through the gathering crowd, the only conscious thought in my racing mind to get as far away from her as possible.

When I finally reached the volvo I sighed relieved and embarassingly loud and then allowed myself to collapse into the soft leather seat. With not yet steady fingers I changed the volume of the music to a thrumming, vibrating level that shook the frame of my car rhythmically, and then I closed my eyes and shut down, absorbing the soothing, familiar tunes of Metallica. Finally I was able to breathe again.

But the brown eyes just wouldn`t leave me alone. They even crept into my dreams that night, and it was the first dream I have had in a very long time that didn`t left me gasping and shaking and feeling utterly helpless. It brought me an unfamiliar feeling of…calm… and warmth.

And yet it frightened me. These eyes had seen what nobody ever had seen before. And that meant she possessed a certain power – a power that could easily destroy me if I let her.

I would stay away from her from now on. I simply had to. That shouldn`t be too difficult – I was used to be invisible. I was used to push other people away.

For the first time, that thought actually hurt.

4


End file.
